


every inch of your skin is a holy grail

by doorwaytoparadise



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: D/s relationship, Dom!Martin, Frottage, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, M/M, PWP, it's rated explicit but it's actually pretty light, sub!Douglas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 10:28:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3688803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doorwaytoparadise/pseuds/doorwaytoparadise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A close relationship like theirs makes room for a lot of interesting ideas in the bedroom. Martin has one involving tongues and thighs. Douglas approves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	every inch of your skin is a holy grail

**Author's Note:**

> Part of my new marlas AU, Love Me Like You Do, which is summarized here: http://clairedrawsairdraws.tumblr.com/post/115543512169/from-the-lovely-and-corrupting-influence-of

Douglas lies on the bed on his stomach, stripped of all clothing, and head turned to the side, dark eyes tracking Martin's movement, until he leaves his line of sight. Martin positions himself on the mattress, behind Douglas and between his legs, wearing nothing but a pair of loose pajama bottoms, which Douglas will probably realize later, are actually his. Martin kneels where he is, at Douglas' ankles for now, taking a second to mentally reiterate his course of action. They had just been talking about something fun to do in the bedroom, when Martin had gotten the idea, and pitched it to Douglas. The other man had stared at him for a moment, before practically dragging him towards their room, clearly very interested in trying this out as soon as they had worked out the details, which led them to their current positions.  
Martin has left Douglas untied, his hands free and at his sides, but they had agreed to let Martin gag him, and the ends of the tie he had used are trailing over Douglas' shoulders.

Martin leans down slowly, taking his time, and brings his mouth to back of Douglas' left ankle, pressing a feather light kiss to the skin. He feels the shiver run up Douglas' spine, and smirks.  
Mouth barely a centimeter from the skin, Martin trails up from the ankle to the knee, blowing air lightly, and watching with satisfaction as the goosebumps rise in his wake. He hears Douglas exhale heavily, and his weight shifting, and brings his mouth down onto the spot behind the knee, letting his tongue trace along the small area, sucking at it hard enough to leave a mark. The sheets give a rustle as Douglas shifts again, his left arm raised so his palm is pressing down, gripping the sheets lightly. Martin brings a hand up to drag his fingernails lightly up Douglas' thigh, before digging them in harder and raking back down, leaving several lines of red behind. Douglas jumps a bit at the sudden sensation, and moves his other arm to settle above his head, as he makes a pleased noise from the back of his throat. Martin treats his other thigh to the feel of his nails, before ducking his head.

Soon, he's got his face pressed to the inside of Douglas' knee, one hand braced on his thigh, the other keeping his balance, pressed to the sheets. He starts slow, and drags his tongue teasingly up the inside of Douglas' thigh, leaving a wet trail from kneecap all the way to his crotch. Douglas squirms a bit, groaning from where he has his cheek pressed into the mattress. 

Martin keeps his mouth where it is, tantalizingly close to Douglas' cock, and swirls his tongue around in a small circle on the skin. Douglas makes a slightly strangled sound, and his hips jerk involuntarily. Martin raises himself slightly, drawing one hand back and bringing it down with a smack on Douglas' rear. Douglas' back arches, pressing his hips into the bed, the friction making him moan even louder past the gag. Martin snorts at that, leaning over to press a kiss to the small of his back.

“Hold still, darling. If you're going to do my work for me, I might as well leave you here to finish it yourself.”

That brings a grunt of protest, and Douglas stills as best he can. Martin, just to see how his partner would react, slides his hand to where he had had his mouth, and trails one fingernail along the surface, just barely making contact, and Douglas shudders, panting a bit, and whining in frustration. Martin drags his hand back up, coming to rest at the spot he had smacked. Fingernails trace lightly across the reddened surface, and Douglas squirms again, earning him another solid slap across his backside. A guttural sound comes from his chest, as his hands fist the sheets, and he presses his forehead down, breath coming faster once more. Martin uses his nails to scratch his name onto the skin at the base of Douglas' spine. 

“You look good with my name on you, darling. Shall I write 'property of' as well?”

He teases, drawing idle loops with his fingertip over Douglas' tailbone, and the other man growls a bit. Martin takes that as the halfhearted ' _don't you dare_ ' Douglas intended it as, and doesn't push.

Instead, he ducks his head back down, dragging his tongue over the inside of the other thigh this time, leisurely making his way up. Once back at the crotch, he pokes his tongue out further, briefly prods the skin beneath his mouth, before sucking it in and biting down lightly. Douglas' whole body abruptly jerks upwards, like the sensation was almost too much to handle, as a harsh breath pushes out of Douglas' mouth, and Martin grins at the arousal he can hear in the ensuing groan. Experimentally, he moves his lower jaw back and forth minutely, kneading the skin, and Douglas bucks his hips forward, a long breathy moan drawn from his throat. Martin releases his teeth, but doesn't lift his head, turning to drag his tongue over the fold of skin where leg meets pelvis, and bringing his hand up to once again swat at Douglas' arse. 

“I said, _stay still_.”

There's a slight growl to his voice, and he pulls up fully once again, admiring the redness of the skin all along Douglas' back. His name is fading at this point, but he pays it no mind, instead content to see the effect he has on the normally composed first officer. Douglas is gripping the sheets so hard they've come off the mattress at one corner, and his head is pressed firmly into the bed. His shoulders are tense and he's shaking just a little, chest moving up and down as he pants for breath, flushed with pleasure.  
On a whim, Martin reaches out and gives a squeeze where the the red is just starting to fade from the left cheek, and Douglas chokes out a sensual moan, as his hips once more buck into the mattress, driving the pleasure up further as a result.

Martin smiles to himself, and shifts to sit on his knees, laying his cool hands on the spots he smacked, and giving Douglas a brief respite. He mutters a warning, which Douglas grunts in assent to, before leaning over to hook one hand on Douglas' hip and smoothly flipping him over.

Martin crawls his way over Douglas to straddle him, placing his hands on the other man's shoulders, and pressing down with a fraction of his weight. He dips his head to meet Douglas' eyes, and has to take a moment, feeling his breath leave in a whoosh at the sight below him. Douglas is staring up at him, eyes half-lidded, sweat plastering his fringe to his forehead, practically glowing from arousal, cheeks faintly flushed, as he exhales audibly. Martin takes in this sight and finds himself thinking in awe, ' _beautiful_ '. Only when Douglas' eyes widen, shining with startled delight, does Martin realize he has said that out loud. He flushes, a little embarrassed to have let that slip out, but he means it sincerely, so he lets it hang in the air between them for a beat, before folding his body downwards. He presses his nose to the hollow of Douglas' throat, dropping kisses as he moves along his collarbone. Douglas is quieter now, though he lets out an occasional small noise of enjoyment that rumbles in his chest, where Martin can feel it against his lips. He leaves a bite mark at Douglas' shoulder, and moves to do the same on the other side, letting his thoughts briefly wander.

He and Douglas have been in a relationship for some time now, long enough that they don't even bother being subtle at the airfield, much to Carolyn's chagrin. Martin has seen Douglas' body on many occasions, and he thinks on all he knows. Every scar, every mark, every bump and crease and line is a point on the map that forms in his mind's eye now, layering over the actual planes of Douglas' skin as Martin drags his hands and mouth across them.  
Maps are order, much like manuals and regulations, and Martin loves order, almost as much as he loves Douglas, so he keeps this map close at hand, always updating and adding to it. Martin wants to know, wants to be sure that everything he does serves the other man's wants and needs. He sees and observes and learns and commits to memory every quirk, nuance, and detail. He knows exactly what to do to bring about a result satisfying for them both, and that is exactly how he likes it. The both of them content, sated, happy. Theirs was a relationship of balance. Perfectly even scales holding give and take, rough and tender, arguments and laughter. Even after all this time, Martin marvels at where he has ended up, thanking god for this gift of a lover. He long ago decided if all his luck has been sucked dry to give him this one good thing, he's fine to never have luck in anything else for the rest of his life. He's fine as long as he gets to stay here, in this little home they've carved out together, where nothing has ever felt so damn right.

As these thoughts flash through his mind in the space of a few seconds, Martin is rocking his hips, circling slowly, tauntingly, savoring the low sounds of delight coming from Douglas, as both of them near the edge. As Martin picks up his pace, breathing suddenly becomes far more difficult, and the rising rush of _adrenaline excitement arousal_ brings a single definitive thought whispering to the front of Martin's mind. 

_'I love you.'_

Martin hastily bends forward, shoves his face next to Douglas', presses sloppy rough kisses against his temple, his cheek, his jawline, trying to convey his suddenly overwhelming passion through actions alone, his words stolen from him in the roll of two bodies pressed together in a blissful embrace. He knows Douglas knows, they say it all the time to each other, but there's something about this moment, suspended in time, that drives that feeling to an all-encompassing fire. Yes, Douglas knows, but he wants him to _know_. From the way one of Douglas' hands is running through his hair, and the other is wrapped around his shoulders, Martin would guess the other man gets at least part of it. That's good enough for now, for this instant, because Martin is now thrusting his hips, rutting against Douglas, and he can feel that climax is nearing. Hands tighten where they're gripping, muscles clench, rough cries are pulled from vocal chords, and that final point is reached. Almost in the same instant, they both hit their peak and tumble over the edge, in swirling ecstasy and an explosion of pleasure.

Martin collapses on top of Douglas, both spent and exhausted in the best kind of way. They lie there, basking in the afterglow, sweaty and breathless and barely aware of the world around them, caught in the gravity of each other and their love. 

Martin is the first to move, levering himself up to a sitting position, and slowly straightening his back, shifting forward an inch or so and settling at Douglas' waistline. Douglas, for his part is sprawled over the bed, utterly wrung out, arms limp where they lay. Martin stays where he's perched, letting the cool air wash over him, before he moves to clean them both up.  
When he's finished, Douglas is stretched out on the mattress, hardly having moved since Martin rolled off him, but his expression is relaxed, so Martin shakes his head fondly and crawls back into his lap. The returning weight is apparently enough to jump-start Douglas' brain again, and he shifts slightly to accommodate Martin, before craning his head to peer at the other man pleadingly. Martin snorts and leans forward, steady fingers carefully pulling the tie from between Douglas' teeth, undoing the knot and tossing it to the side, as Douglas circles his lower jaw to work out any lingering stiffness. The older man pins Martin with his gaze, swiping his tongue across his lips.

“You.” He begins, huffing. “Are going to be the death of me.”

Martin laughs, tossing his head back slightly, and nearly knocking himself off balance, if not for Douglas bringing his knees up to catch him. 

“As I recall, you're the one who dragged me in here to try this out. Was it too much for you? Perhaps we should tame it down.”

“Bite your tongue.”

“Surely you'd prefer I'd use it on you again?”

“Frankly, dear, I'm not sure I'd survive.”

Douglas drawls out his statement, only half joking and gives Martin a deadpan look, as the other man grins cheekily at him, only to squeak loudly as he pitches forward. Douglas had bucked his hips slightly and used his legs to tip Martin over. The captain flings his hands out, letting them take most of the impact as they land on either side of Douglas' head, but his body still follows the momentum and he feels his chest thump against Douglas'. Martin blinks rapidly, now nose-to-nose with his first officer, who was giving him a smug little smile. He huffs in mock-annoyance, and the smile widens. 

“I will admit, _sir_ , that that tongue of yours is very clever. Perhaps you might indulge me with it once more?”

“Oh? How may I be of service?”

Douglas grins and tilts his chin up, planting a kiss on Martin's lips, who eagerly deepens it, as one of Douglas' hands slides around his waist. Martin lets his arms drop him the rest of the way down, bracing himself on his forearms. When they finally break for air, Douglas dips his head to fit in the crook of Martin's neck, whispering into his ear.

“By the way, I love you too.”


End file.
